


keep your eyes shut and your mouth open

by Bontaque



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Christmas, Force-Feeding, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8945215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bontaque/pseuds/Bontaque
Summary: Christmassy feeding kink with some sensory deprivation thrown in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chubstilinski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chubstilinski/gifts).



> This was going to be a rehash of an earlier fic of mine with food thrown in and then in became something else entirely. Whoops!

Derek had always had a little bit of a secret kink. It wasn't the be all and end all or anything, he liked all kinds of people: tall, imposing women who could kill him in an instant; skinny, vulnerable guys that made him feel big and protective... he didn't usually have a type. There was one thing, though, that always drew his interest. It was a guilty pleasure. The guiltiest.

 

He didn't even think about it most of the time. Sure, he'd done some research online in the darkest hours when he had nothing else to do. He'd found out that there was an entire community devoted to everything he liked and even things way beyond his interest. Some of it was extreme and just too much for him, some people devoted their lives to it even. He knew that wasn't an option for him and he tried not to dwell on it but sometimes real life would stray just a little too close to his secret preferences. Especially at certain times of year.

 

November and December were usually the worst. Or maybe the best. Derek wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was thinking things that he really didn't need anyone to find out about. It was nearly Christmas and Scott, Stiles and Lydia had come back to Beacon Hills for the first time after leaving for college. Derek hadn't really been sure what to expect but as soon as the three of them had been to see their respective families, there was a knock at his door and the three of them walked on in like they'd never left town.

 

“Hey, how's it been?” Scott asked.

 

They sat themselves comfortably in what had been their usual spots and Derek realised, just then, how much he'd missed them. The town had been quiet without the kids around. Not that they were kids any more. Lydia was mature as ever, her polite smile in place as she looked around his basic apartment and he filled them all in on the past few months' events.

 

Scott had obviously been keeping up his workout regime at college. He was filling out amazingly well and Derek was impressed that he'd managed to balance fitness and veterinary school. A spark of pride flared inside him as he thought of the transformation the man in front of him had made. He seemed completely comfortable and confident, something Derek could only pretend to be.

 

Stiles was something else completely. The eternally pale, skinny teenager Derek had helped pack for college was not the man who had returned. His shirt, which Derek remembered being slightly loose on him in August was clinging to a new addition to his frame. Derek's heart skipped a little when he noticed the tight fabric and the tiny, squishy belly that Stiles had developed in a few short months and he hoped to god that Scott hadn't noticed.

 

Lydia filled them all in on how she'd been doing, which was, of course, spectacularly. Scott got up and made them all drinks before telling them about the wonders he'd witnessed so far which included helping a three legged dog give birth, saving a cat from hypothermia and, weirdly, extracting a gecko from inside a vacuum cleaner.

 

Stiles told them about the parties he'd been going to and how he hoped his dad didn't find out how much he'd been drinking lately. He was apparently surprised about how much he was getting on with his roommate who was great at mario kart (although not as good as Scott), actually pretty funny (not as funny as you though, Scott, don't worry) and an amazing cook (honestly, dude, I think he's better than your mom!).

 

Derek tried not to look at him as he talked. Stiles was always so dynamic when he talked, his hands moving as much as his mouth. He leaned forwards in his chair when he told stories about the frat parties he'd crashed and the movie nights in his dorm and Derek couldn't let himself watch the way his belly pressed into his lap when he did so.

 

He was sure, when he did look at him for a second that his face looked a little fuller, too. It looked good on him. Like in a completely normal, glad to see someone taking care of themselves way. Next the conversation turned to how excited everyone was to have Christmas dinner and wow, Derek was not thinking about him in a normal way at all. He was thinking about just how much Stiles had to have eaten to have gained what looked like fifteen pounds in such a short time, especially when Derek had seen him eat whatever he wanted and not change at all for years.

 

“So, what are you doing for Christmas this year?”

 

It took Derek a second to register that Stiles was directing the question at him. The year before, Derek had only just managed to escape from being forced to spend the day at Stiles' out of obvious pity. He really couldn't afford to spend the day watching him eat. That would destroy him.

 

“You know, the usual,” Derek said.

 

“So... spending the day alone in the dark, brooding?” Lydia asked.

 

Derek glared at her but it was too late.

 

“Seriously?” Stiles asked. “C'mon I've already told you my dad wont mind having you over, you're not spending Christmas on your own, I wont let you.”

 

“I'm not going to be able to get out of this, am I?” Derek asked.

 

“Nope,” Stiles said.

 

“Fine, I'll come.”  
  


“God, Derek, you'd think I was asking you to come to a museum with me or something,” Stiles said. “It's Christmas Dinner, dude, be a little more excited.”

 

Derek was and that was exactly the problem.

 

“Are you sure your dad wont mind?” was all he asked.

 

“Absolutely not,” Stiles said. “He always cooks too much anyway.”

 

“Then it's settled,” Lydia said. “Can we talk about something else now?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Christmas Day came and Derek felt nervous by the time he stepped out of the shower. He didn't even know what to wear, it had been so long since he'd actually celebrated a normal Christmas, with a family home and a tree and everything. He looked through his closet and found the bottle green, cashmere sweater that Lydia has gotten him for his birthday. He paired it with some dark brown pants and looked in the mirror. He didn't look bad. Lydia had impeccable taste, after all.

 

Stiles had told him to come over around noon, so Derek killed some time reading before it was time to go. He got to the Stilinski house at five minutes before midday and turned off his engine. He intended to sit in his car and wait for it to actually turn twelve before getting out but it wasn't thirty seconds before the Sheriff threw open the front door and waved at him.

 

“Get in here, son,” he said. “It's cold out there.”

 

Derek jumped out of his car and hurried inside, not wanting to put the Sheriff out any more than he already was.

 

“Thank you for having me over,” he said as he brushed his feet on the welcome mat.

 

“It's no trouble, honestly, it's nice having a bit more of a full house.”

 

Derek could smell cooking as he started to walk down the hall. Stiles came bounding down the stairs in a bright red sweater with a snowflake pattern. Derek was thankful that it wasn't too tight yet because that might have destroyed him.

 

“Stiles, are you really going to wear that to dinner?” his father asked him. “We have a guest.”

 

“What? You bought me this sweater specifically for Christmas,” Stiles said with a grin.

  
“You know what I mean, Stiles.”

 

Stiles looked down at the dark grey sweatpants he was wearing to complete the outfit. He shrugged.

  
“Come on, Dad, you and I both know I'm going to need something with a stretchy waistband,” Stiles said.

 

Derek looked down at the floor and tried to think pure thoughts. This was going to be the hardest day of his life.

 

The Sheriff ushered them both into the dining room.

 

“I'll be a few moments, boys,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable.”  
  


When the kitchen door opened, the smell of food intensified and Derek's mouth watered.

 

“God, I'm hungry,” Stiles said.

 

He sat down in one of the chairs and gestured for Derek to do the same.

 

“It smells really good,” Derek said. “I wasn't expecting anything extravagant.”

 

“Well, you know, we Stilinskis can do good work in the kitchen when we work together,” Stiles said. “The potatoes and most of the trimmings are all me but my dad is the meat guy.”

 

Derek jumped up to help, along with Stiles, when the food started to come out of the kitchen. The three men struggled to fit all of the dishes on the dining table; there was a whole turkey, a bowl of stuffing, mashed and roasted potatoes, parsnips, creamed corn, chipolatas and a random assortment of vegetables which, as Stiles told him, were all either cooked in butter, mixed with bacon, or both.

 

The Sheriff carved slices off of the turkey and they all helped themselves to their first plate. It tasted amazing, Derek thought, and going by the moans of pleasure coming from Stiles, he agreed.

 

“We're going to be eating leftovers for a month,” the Sheriff said.

 

“Not if I can help it,” Stiles said, adding more to his plate with one hand, whilst eating with the other.

 

His first plate was just meat and potatoes and Derek watched him finish it and then load up a second with more turkey, chipolatas, cabbage with bacon, carrots and mashed potato. Derek hadn't even finished his first plate before Stiles was half way through his second.

 

When Derek did eventually finish his plate, in between trying not to stare at Stiles and trying not to get caught staring, he helped himself to a few more vegetables and potatoes. Stiles spooned creamed corn and sausages onto his plate and his dad gave him a look of concern.

 

“You want to slow down a little bit?”

  
“Not particularly,” Stiles said.

 

“Maybe at least finish a plate before filling it up again.”

 

Stiles responded by leaning forwards and piling even more potatoes onto his plate while staring straight into his father's eyes. Derek tried not to look at the way his sweater already looked a little snug.

 

“Don't forget to leave room for dessert,” Stiles said. “I made pie.”

 

Derek looked down at his empty plate and considered filling it up again. He wasn't full yet, not even close but he did like pie.

 

“What kind?” he asked.

 

“Pecan,” Stiles said. “There's ice cream in the freezer, too.”

 

Derek added a little bit of turkey and stuffing to his plate and a few more carrots because they were too good to leave. He ate slowly, watching Stiles demolish another plate of food before sitting back with a pained look on his face.

 

“I told you to slow down,” the Sheriff said.

 

Stiles leaned back further, rubbing his stomach and exhaling slowly.

 

“I'm not defeated,” Stiles said. “I'm just thinking about that pie.”

 

Derek forced himself to look away. Stiles' sweater was clinging to his rounded belly, the bright red color making it look even more prominent. When the Sheriff finished his food and got up to clear the table, Derek jumped up to help.

 

“Sit down, son,” the Sheriff said. “You're our guest.”

 

Derek shook his head and started to pick up half empty dishes. He needed an excuse to get away from the table and he knew that Stiles wasn't going to be any help. When Derek returned to the table to get more dishes, he caught a glimpse of Stiles rubbing his bloated stomach, hands running up and under the sweater. Derek's breath caught in his throat and he felt himself going red.

 

The turkey and trimmings were replaced by a large pie and the ice cream from the freezer. Stiles immediately leaned forwards and helped himself to a large slice and piled ice cream on top. When Derek sat back down next to him, he glanced down and saw that Stiles' had pulled his sweatpants down beneath the curve of his belly.

 

Derek distracted himself by cutting himself a much smaller slice of pie. He took a bite and was amazed at how good it was.

 

“Wait, did you say you made this?” he asked, looking at Stiles.

 

“Yeah, it's a family recipe,” Stiles replied, between mouthfuls of pie.

 

By the time the three of them stopped eating, they were all tremendously full. Stiles was, by far, in the worst state, though. Derek could barely look at him: the red sweater had risen just enough to show the lower curve of his rounded belly and Stiles looked like he'd burst if he tried to move. The little groans and shallow breaths weren't helping matters.

 

They talked a little about school and work and then Derek helped clean up, much to protests from both of the Stilinskis. Stiles moved himself to the front room and, when he was done cleaning up, Derek went to join him.

 

“Damn, I think I may have overdone it a little,” Stiles said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

 

“You think?” Derek asked, feeling the tips of his ears heat up.

 

He was so glad that there were no werewolves around, but, still, he felt the need to escape.

 

“Yeah, a bit,” Stiles said with a pained grin. “I don't think there's any room left.”  
  
He poked his belly, showing that there was no give and that was about as much as Derek could take.

 

“The food was great,” he said. “I've kind of got to go, though.”  
  
“What? Already?” Stiles asked, obviously disappointed.

  
“Yeah, I have some traditions of my own,” Derek lied. “Let me go say goodbye to your dad and I'll be out of your hair.”

 

Derek did just that. He said his goodbyes, accepted the copious amounts of leftovers pressed into his arms and drove home. He knew it would look rude but he just couldn't stay around Stiles when he looked like that.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Derek's phone woke him up the next morning. He groaned when he saw who was calling him. At nine in the morning.

 

“Hey Stiles,” he said groggily.

 

“Hey, what's up?” Stiles asked.

 

“I don't know,” Derek replied dryly. “You called me.”

 

“No, I mean what's up with you?” Stiles asked. “You left last night before I could give you your gift.”

 

“Yeah sorry, I was tired,” Derek said. “Wait, you got me a gift?”

 

“Yeah I found it when I was at college... can I come round and give it to you before I leave?”

 

Derek got up and showered as quickly as he could. Knowing Stiles, twenty minutes would either be an hour or less than five and he didn't want to be interrupted when he was still getting dressed. It ended up being the former; Derek was just finishing cooking breakfast when Stiles knocked and let himself in.

 

“Wow, something smells good,” he said as walked in.

 

Derek turned around and nearly dropped the pan he was holding. Stiles was wearing a shirt that definitely was too tight, especially around what looked to be a still very bloated stomach.

 

“How can you still be hungry after everything you ate yesterday?” Derek asked.

 

Stiles blushed a little, looking down at his belly but then he just shrugged.

 

“You know me,” he said.

 

Derek did. He'd seen him keep up with the wolves at pack barbeques but he'd never seen him put on a single pound before. Maybe quitting lacrosse and not running away from things trying to kill him had changed something.

 

“And anyway, bacon,” Stiles said. “You cooked some for me too, right?”

 

Derek sighed and passed Stiles the plate of bacon, toast and scrambled eggs he'd been making for himself before proceeding to add more bacon to the pan.

 

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked.

 

He didn't wait for Derek's response before digging in so Derek didn't bother to answer him.

 

“I'm still trying to get over the fact that you got me a gift,” Derek said as the bacon sizzled away.

 

“What have you never bought something for someone just because you knew they'd like it?” Stiles asked.

 

Derek shrugged. Yeah, maybe he had but he hadn't expected Stiles to think about him whilst he was away at school.

 

“You can open it after breakfast.”

 

Derek finished cooking his plate as he stole glances at Stiles. He was shovelling food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days, his stomach resting against the kitchen counter. When Derek finished cooking and sat down at the island, Stiles followed him.

 

“Don't take this the wrong way but you can cook me breakfast anytime,” Stiles said as he put his fork down.

 

Derek raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't mind that, not one bit.

 

“I told you not to take it the wrong way,” Stiles said.

 

Derek shook his head and finished his food. He stood up and put the plates in the sink. He'd do them in a moment. He didn't want to admit it but he was more than a little curious about the gift Stiles had gotten him.

 

“Okay, okay, sit down,” Stiles said exctedly.

 

He ran out of the front door and Derek heard the opening and closing of the Jeep's door. Stiles returned holding a large package, wrapped in old paper and kept together with string. There was a strange scent that made Derek nervous.

 

“What is it?” he asked when Stiles placed it down in front of him.

 

“Wow, have you never received anything before?” Stiles asked in mock sadness. “It's a gift Derek, you're supposed to open it.”

 

“Smells weird,” he said, tentatively running a finger over the paper.

 

“Yeah, that figures,” Stiles said. “It's safe, don't worry.”

  
Derek frowned and pulled on the string. The neat little bow unravelled and the paper came away, showing old leather. He unwrapped the item fully and was surprised to see a large tome, obviously much older than he was. There was no title, just a symbol on the spine that reminded him of something far back in his memory.

 

Stiles just watched him silently as he opened the book. It smelled old but more than that... it felt powerful.

 

“Stiles... this must have cost a fortune,” he said in awe.

 

“Not as much as you'd think,” Stiles said. “The guy who runs the occult shop on campus owes me a few favors.”

 

Derek looked through the first few pages. The book seemed to be an old encyclopedia of creatures, something of a beastiary. It was different to the few he'd seen before, though; this one, in particular, seemed to focus mostly on werewolves.

 

Derek looked again at the symbol on the spine. He'd seen it before, his mother had had a pendant with it on and he remembered visiting old family graves as a child. The headstones were all engraved with the same symbol.

 

“It's part of a series but he only had a few,” Stiles told him. “I was pretty sure you'd like this one.”

 

Derek looked at him in shock.

 

“You... you got me a book about my family?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, I meant it goes back a few generations, there's nothing too modern in there but... well I thought you might want to know a little more about how your family got started in Beacon Hills,” Stiles said.

 

Derek stood up. He couldn't quite believe it. He didn't even know books like this still existed.

 

“Thank you, Stiles.” he said quietly.

 

Stiles stood up and threw an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

 

“It's okay, I just saw it and thought of you,” he said.

 

Derek looked down at him, suddenly conscious of Stiles' full stomach pressed against him.

 

“It's... really, really amazing, thank you,” he said again.

 

He needed to look away, needed to get away but he couldn't. Stiles smiled at him and there was a second where Derek didn't know what was happening anymore. Then Stiles leaned in and kissed him.

 

Derek froze. Stiles pressed closer to him, his warm body sparking something deep inside Derek and then he started to kiss back. Before he could really get to grips with what was happening, Stiles pulled away.

 

“Merry Christmas, Derek,” he said. “I'll see you next time I'm back in town.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more kink stuff in the next (and hopefully final) update, should be up in a week, I just wanted to get this out there first, sorry this is so rushed


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Stiles came home, it was spring and he had to be another ten or fifteen pounds heavier. Derek's mouth went dry when he saw him. He hadn't bought any new clothes because Derek recognised the once loose white t-shirt that was clinging tightly around his belly and the shorts that had to be straining underneath it.

 

They had talked on the phone a little, never acknowledging the kiss but something had changed between them. Stiles had come home a week earlier than Scott and turned up at Derek's apartment unannounced.

 

“You wanna watch a movie or something?” he asked.

 

Stiles was already carrying a few DVDs and a bag of snacks so Derek nodded and let him in. He was a little nervous if he was honest. He wasn't quite sure what was going to happen between him and Stiles but he knew he wanted something more than what they had.

 

He sat down on the couch and watched as Stiles busied himself putting a disk into the DVD player and shuffling back to join him. His body felt warm as he sat back against the cushions and Derek was acutely aware of how close they were.

 

Derek wasn't even too sure of what the movie was, just that it obviously wasn't one of Stiles' favourites because the boy was content to talk through it. Derek was happy to listen, to give small nods and utterances to show that he was listening. Really, though, Derek was just happy to be there with Stiles and to watch Stiles slowly make his way through the bag of snacks. That was nothing new, of course, Stiles had always eaten a lot and if there was something in front of him Stiles would always interact with it. Derek wondered if his large appetite was just a product of Stiles' need to fiddle and be active at all times.

 

When the movie finished, Stiles spun around on the couch and looked right at Derek.

 

“So...” he said.

 

“Yes?” Derek asked.

 

“Well, are we going to ever talk about this thing or not?” Stiles asked.

 

“What thing?” Derek asked although he was pretty sure he knew exactly which thing.

 

“You know, the thing where we kissed and then I spent a few months not sure if you actually like me or if I'm just being hopeful for no reason. Like I get it, it's awkward to talk about but I'd rather you tell me the truth even if it -”

 

Derek leaned forwards and kissed Stiles for the second time. His lips tasted sweet, from the chocolate, and a little salty, from the popcorn. He did it so he didn't have to answer because actions were easier than words sometimes. He did it because he'd been wanting to ever since Stiles had gotten home, or if he was honest, since before Stiles even left for college.

 

The kiss lasted and lasted, neither of them wanting to pull away for anything more than a momentary breath. Unfortunately, like everything good, it ended eventually. Derek then had a pink lipped, red-cheeked and shiny-eyed Stiles staring at him like he'd just received some really good and really bad news at the same time.

 

“So you do like me?” he asked after a few moments.

 

“Yeah..?” Derek replied, eyes narrowing. He wasn't sure how he could make it any more obvious.

 

“Then why'd you have to leave me hanging for so long? I know you can be a little awkward sometimes but come on man, I was there pining for you, you know?”

 

Stiles' face reddened considerably more as if he hadn't meant to say quite that much.

 

“I'm sorry,” Derek said simply.

 

Stiles looked like he was going to protest but Derek kissed him again, short and sweet and then gave him something else to think about.

 

“Do you want to go get dinner?” he asked.

 

“What, like a date?” Stiles asked.

 

“If you want it to be, sure,” Derek said. Then, for clarity, he added. “I would like it to be.”

 

Stiles' eyes lit up, his lips turning into the biggest grin.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that would be great,” he said. “I wasn't sure if you wanted anything serious or...”

 

“Come on, let's go,” Derek said, standing up.

 

They left the apartment and walked the short distance to a street of restaurants. Derek had never visited any of them before, but he had heard good things.

 

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

 

“I don't know... anything?” Stiles asked. “I'm starving.”

 

Derek wasn't sure how he could be; Stiles had just eaten his way through three bags of candy, a bag of chips, a bag of popcorn and a six-pack of sodas but he wasn't going to complain.

 

“Italian? I hear Mama's does amazing meatballs,” Derek said.

 

Stiles nodded and it was decided. They went inside and were seated. Stiles looked over the menu for a good ten minutes but eventually, he decided on the meatballs. Derek felt a little giddy at the fact that he'd been able to influence the decision to easily. He had heard the meatballs were amazing, but he'd also heard that the portion size of that particular dish was insanely large.

 

Derek ordered a pasta salad and they waited for their food to come out. It didn't take too long and the difference in plate size was astounding. Derek's salad came on a small plate but it was generously topped with seafood and pasta. Stiles' food, on the other hand, came in a bowl about three times the size. It was half filled with pasta with six meatballs, each the size of tennis balls, nestled on top. The whole thing was covered in a thick, hearty marinara sauce. Stiles' eyes widened when the waitress placed it down in front of him.

 

“This looks... wow, this looks amazing,” he said.

 

“Cheese?” the waitress asked, offering him some freshly grated parmesan.

 

“Yes, please,” Stiles said.

 

He allowed her to heap the cheese on, only asking her to stop when the whole meal was covered and the waitress was starting to look a little worried.

 

Derek watched him start to eat, watched the way his eyes lit up after one bite and then the way he dove in for more. The salad was good but watching Stiles eat like a starving man was better. It was, Derek realised suddenly, the only time he was quiet. It was the only time he seemed at ease. Even around the pack, Stiles was always on edge, unless he was eating.

 

Stiles got through the first three meatballs and at least a third of the pasta without issue. Derek was impressed. After that, however, he was obviously starting to struggle. Derek ate slower, not wanting to discourage Stiles from attempting to finish the bowl.

 

Stiles took a deep breath, pausing for a second before raising his fork to his mouth. It was piled high with saucy spaghetti and Derek watched him eat it slowly. He glanced down and looked at the white t-shirt, which had been clinging to Stiles' belly at the start of the day. After all of the food he'd already consumed, it was pretty much painted on with Stiles' full belly visibly straining against the fabric.

 

Stiles took another few bites before he but down his fork entirely. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, as if he were trying to catch his breath.

  
“Are you okay?” Derek asked, trying desperately to keep the smirk from his face.

 

“Yeah, yeah, this is just really filling,” Stiles said.

 

He wasn't kidding. When Stiles leaned back in his chair, Derek could see that his shirt was barely covering his stomach.

 

“You could always take the leftovers home with you,” Derek said.

 

“Nah, I don't want to be beaten that easily,” Stiles said. “Besides, I know it won't taste as good reheated.”

 

“Are you sure?” Derek asked.

  
“Yeah, I'm just a little uncomfortable,” Stiles said. “These shorts aren't that forgiving, you know?”  
  


Stiles' face turned pink and Derek understood. He remembered how tight they'd looked earlier. They must have been close to bursting. Derek took a steadying breath and then continued to pick at his salad.

 

Stiles looked around, surveying the mostly empty restaurant. There were no customers sitting in the booths near them. He looked away from Derek and slipped his hands under the table. After a few seconds, there was the telltale sound of a zipper being pulled (or possibly forced) down. Derek acted like he hadn't noticed.

 

After that, Stiles seemed to be feeling a lot better. He continued eating immediately, easily making it through two more meatballs. He slowed down a little after that but he finished off the last meatball and most of the pasta before admitting defeat.

  
“Okay, I'm completely done,” he breathed out, laying down his fork.

  
“I'll admit, I'm impressed,” Derek said.

 

He'd finished his salad a good ten minutes before and he had been desperately trying not to stare at Stiles ever since.

 

“I should probably apologise,” Stiles said quietly.  
  


“For what?” Derek asked.  
  
“Well, this is basically a date, right?” Stiles asked. “I've broken a few golden rules at least.”

 

“Like what, exactly?” Derek asked.

  
“Well we haven't exactly spoken,” Stiles said.

 

“That's fine, I'm perfectly happy doing things with you, just to be -”

 

“We haven't spoken because I've been too busy stuffing my face,” Stiles interrupted.

 

“How is that any different from how you usually are?” Derek asked. “Do I need to remind you of the pack barbeques?”

 

Stiles' face turned red and he looked away. Derek knew he'd said something wrong.

  
“Christ Stiles,” he said. “Do I really need to spell this out for you? I like you. I've always kind of liked you. Maybe for too long. I don't want you to change yourself now, I like you how you are.”

 

Stiles smiled slightly but didn't say anything for a few moments. Eventually, he just nodded.

 

The two of them waited for the bill, which Derek paid before Stiles could even argue.

 

“So are we going back to mine?” Derek asked.

 

“I'd love to but I told my dad I'd be home early today,” Stiles said. “So I'm going to need to walk back to yours and then drive home pretty soon.”

 

“Okay, that's fine,” Derek said. “Let's go.”

 

Stiles hesitated, his face flushing bright red. He reached underneath the table and then clearly struggled with something for a few moments. Derek watched him try to suck in his packed stomach. He couldn't button his shorts back up.

 

Derek pulled his sweater off over his head, leaving him in a black vest top.

 

“Here, tie this around your waist,” he said, handing his sweater across the table to Stiles.

 

Stiles didn't meet his eyes but he took the sweater. Derek watched him stand up and wrap the sweater around him, crossing the arms over to hide his open shorts. The curve of his belly was lifting the bottom of his white t-shirt up just a little, revealing a small strip of taut skin.

 

Derek wanted to do something or say something to take the look of blatant shame off of Stiles' face but he didn't quite know how.

 

“Come on, let's get you home,” he said instead.

 

When they left the restaurant, Derek took a leap and wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist. The action served two purposes: it allowed him to steady Stiles a little who was obviously having trouble walking and it also seemed to reassure Stiles a little.

  
Derek tried not to think about how round Stiles felt under his fingertips as they walked back to his.

 

“Are you busy tomorrow?” he asked.

 

“I don't think so, why?” Stiles asked.

 

“I thought we could meet up again,” Derek said. “I'd like it if you came over.”

 

Stiles looked up at him and smiled. Then he nodded.

  
“Sure, I can come over after I spend some of the day with my dad, if that's okay.”

 

Derek agreed. He just really wanted to spend as much time as possible with Stiles before he went back to school. When they got back to his apartment, Stiles headed straight for his Jeep. Derek followed him, crowding him up against the car.

 

Stiles turned around and looked at him, licking his lips. Derek pressed his body against him, careful not to put too much pressure on his stuffed belly. He leaned in slowly and kissed him. Stiles' lips tasted like tomato sauce.

 

Derek could feel himself getting hard in his jeans so he pulled away and took a step backwards.

  
“So, I'll see you tomorrow?” Derek asked.

 

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a smile.

 

He drove away and Derek wondered how long it would take for Stiles to really figure him out.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles arrived the next day in a shirt that fit him moderately better than the day before. Derek assumed that the previous day's events had made him more aware of his weight gain. He wished it hadn't.

 

“So, did you want to get something to eat?” Derek asked.

 

“Uh... I'm good,” Stiles said.

 

He sat down on the couch and Derek could tell something was up. Even without his enhanced senses (which told him that Stiles' heart rate had increased and that his breathing was just a little uneven), he'd have been able to tell.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

 

“What?” Stiles asked. “Yeah, of course, I'm fine.”  
  
He smiled but Derek knew him well enough to know that he was lying.

 

“Stiles,” he said. “Come on.”

 

Derek raised his eyebrows, which was usually enough to tell Stiles that he wasn't buying whatever shit he was selling.

 

“You don't seem yourself,” he said.

 

“I'm fine,” Stiles said again. “I just don't want to get into the same state as yesterday, okay?”

 

There was a bitterness to his tone that Derek loathed.

 

“I don't mind,” Derek said, trying to be reassuring.

 

“Yeah, well, I could probably do with cutting back a little,” Stiles said.

 

“I'm guessing this is about the, uh, slight bit of weight you've gained recently?” Derek asked.

 

“Slight?!” Stiles asked. “It's hardly slight.”

 

“Is it something that bothers you?” Derek asked. “I kind of assumed you wouldn't care about that sort of thing.”

 

He wasn't sure which version of Stiles he was going to get in that moment: the bluntly honest version with no concept of a filter or the surprisingly secretive version that could say so much without actually saying anything at all. Thankfully, he got the former.

 

“I guess I'm just worried you might have an issue with it... like I'm kinda okay with it, even though it is happening pretty fast,” Stiles said. “You know me, I love food and I'm not too concerned about gaining weight. I'm sure I could lose it if I needed to.”

  
“I definitely do not have a problem with it,” Derek said, not meeting Stiles' eyes.

 

He was worried Stiles would think he was a freak. Sure, Stiles might be okay with some changes happening to his body but that didn't mean he would accept the way Derek felt about them.

 

“Oh, well, cool,” Stiles said with a grin. “I mean I didn't think you'd be the type to be into chubby guys.”

 

Derek felt his ears go hot. He still couldn't bring himself to make eye contact.

 

“I'm not – I mean, uh, you're not -” he said, trying to recover.

 

“Dude, relax,” Stiles said. “I was kidding, you're not going to insult me. Unless... wait are you into chubby guys? Is that why you only seemed interested in me after I left for college?”

 

Stiles suddenly sounded hurt and Derek needed to think of something to say quickly.

 

“No,” he said firmly. “No, Stiles, I was always interested, in theory, but before that, you were in school. You were too young.”

 

“So you were just hanging around waiting for me to hit eighteen? Because I was eighteen for a while before I left.”

 

“No, I mean...” Derek was lost. “Okay, yes, sure, I'm into it. I like it. I like watching you eat and I like watching it change you and maybe, just maybe, it made me a little more interested. But I was already interested.”

 

Stiles' worried expression turned into a smirk.

 

“You like watching me eat, huh?” he asked.

 

The speed at which he changed tone floored Derek for a second. He was still stuck on the fact that he'd just admitted something like that and Stiles had barely reacted. He just nodded and Stiles outright grinned.

 

“Well I obviously like to eat,” he said. “Maybe we could try to communicate with each other a little better and this could be mutually beneficial.”

 

That last bit, Derek knew was patronising but he didn't care. His brain was short firing at the idea of Stiles being okay with it. With Stiles wanting to be more than okay with it.

 

“Yeah?” he asked dumbly.

 

“Sure, why not?” Stiles asked.

 

Derek didn't know what to say. He was stuck on the idea of it, just thinking about the fact that at some point in the future, Stiles would actually be okay with eating in front of him, completely aware of the fact that Derek would be getting off on it.

 

“I mean, I'm hungry now,” Stiles said. “Wanna order takeout?”

 

“Now?” Derek asked, eyes wide.

 

“Well we don't have to, I just thought you might want to,” Stiles said. “And I am pretty hungry.”

 

“I just... I thought you meant one day, not now,” Derek said.   
  
“Well, we can either do that or I can go home and order takeout by myself but I though you might as well enjoy it if it was happening.”

 

Stiles pulled his phone out and opened an app for ordering food.

 

“Well?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Derek said. “Yeah, okay.”

 

“Chinese?” Stiles asked. “Is that okay? I haven't had Chinese food in forever.”

 

Derek just nodded and watched as Stiles started to order items off the menu. He selected an order of spring rolls and an order of pork dumplings from the appetisers, some shredded beef and an order of black bean chicken from the mains and a large container of chow mein from the sides.

  
“Do you want me to get you anything?” he asked.

 

Derek raised his eyebrows.

  
“I assumed you were already ordering for two,” he said.

 

“Nope,” Stiles said with a wink.

 

“I'm good,” Derek replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

 

Stiles placed the order and got up to put a DVD in. Derek laughed when he realised it was Jurassic Park, which had been on of his favourite movies as a kid.

 

“I haven't seen this in ages,” he said.

 

“Me either,” said Stiles.

 

Derek was pretty sure Stiles' definition of “ages” was shorter than his because he knew he and Scott had watched it before they left for college.

 

It took about twenty minutes to arrive. Just enough time for the movie to really to get going. Derek was almost disappointed that he wasn't going to be able to pay attention to it. Almost.

 

Stiles laid out the food on the coffee table and got comfortable on the couch. He went for the chow mein first, demolishing half the container before pouring some black bean chicken on top of it and finishing the rest. If it wasn't for the fact that Derek had seen Stiles eat in the same way many times before, he'd have thought that the little moans of pleasure were put on for his benefit.

 

After that, Stiles kept switching between the chicken and the appetisers, occasionally going in for a little shredded beef. Before long, the chicken container was empty and he had about half of everything else left.

 

Derek licked his lips when Stiles reached down to unbutton his pants. They had been looking kind of tight before he'd started eating. Derek doubted they were the only item of clothing Stiles had grown out of.

 

Derek watched him shuffle back onto the couch, sitting up slightly. His t-shirt was tight around the middle already. Half of him wanted to see Stiles without the shirt, but the way it constricted around him made Derek resist asking.

 

Stiles picked idly at the rest of the pork dumplings, obviously struggling. His belly looked rounder than it had and Derek nearly reached out to touch it but he wasn't sure if that was crossing a line.

 

“Fuck...” Stiles breathed. “Okay, I think I ordered too much.”  
  
“I think you can handle a little more,” Derek said.

 

The words were out of his mouth before he'd even processed them. Stiles smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

 

“You wanna help me?” he asked, holding the carton of spring rolls out to Derek.

 

Derek nodded slowly. He hadn't expected Stiles to offer but he couldn't pass up on a chance like that. He moved closer until he was flush against Stiles' side and took the container. There were still ten spring rolls left.

 

He plucked one out and held it up to Stiles' mouth. Derek watched as Stiles' lips parted and accepted the food. He watched him chew and struggle to swallow and then glanced down when Stiles' hands moved up to rub his belly.

 

Derek continued to feed him the spring rolls until Stiles shook his head.

 

“Ugh, no,” he said. “No more. I can't even bare looking at this food right now.”

 

Derek wasn't sure what made him do it but he stood up and walked over to the kitchen.

 

“Give me two moments,” he said.

 

He found a black length of silk in the bottom drawer, something that had once been used to wrap a knife set. It was the best thing he had to hand. When he returned to the couch with it, Stiles gave him a puzzled look.

 

“What's that for?” he asked.

  
“You said you didn't want to look at the food, right?” Derek asked.

  
“That's not what I meant.”  
  


“Just give it a go,” Derek said. “Trust me.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes but dipped his head. Derek gently reached down and passed the silk over his eyes and tied it behind his head. Stiles sat back and his t-shirt moved up just a little, exposing a pale strip of skin. Derek sat down and ran his fingers over the skin. Stiles visibly shuddered.

 

Derek ran his hand up, fingers ghosting over Stiles' firm stomach. Stiles gasped at the touch and Derek slowly started to rub small circles into his belly.

 

“Is that okay?” he asked.

 

“Yeah – yeah, keep doing that,” Stiles said.

 

Derek reached down and pulled one of the last spring rolls out of the container. He held it up to Stiles' lips and waited for him to eat, still trying to ease some of the pressure with one hand. Stiles swallowed and then burped softly, moaning at the sensation.

 

“You're nearly done with the spring rolls,” Derek told him. “I know you can do it.”

 

Stiles sighed but it didn't sound annoyed. Derek offered him another spring roll and he accepted it. Derek dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to Stiles' neck. He felt Stiles shudder under him so he kept going, following a line up to his face until his was kissing his lips.

 

Stiles swallowed the food and then kissed back with fervour. Derek pulled away, pulling a small whine from Stiles. He replaced his lips with the last spring roll and then put the container down. He went for the beef next, knowing that it would be the biggest challenge.

 

He fed Stiles slowly, watching him struggle to swallow each bite. Derek kept rubbing his belly, feeling it gurgling beneath his hand. Occasionally, he paused for a while, knowing that Stiles couldn't see when the food was coming. He looked so helpless and Derek had to resist ripping his clothes off every time he looked at him.

 

Stiles started to squirm as he neared the end of the beef. His moans began to sound more and more pained so Derek put the food down. He ran both of his hands up under his shirt, spreading his fingers over Stiles' impressively stuffed belly. He rubbed slowly, pressing down on the top of the curve. This prompted a few small burps, making Stiles sigh in relief.

 

Derek kissed him again slowly, wanting to savour every second, his hands never leaving Stiles' skin. Stiles arched up into his, pressing his stomach into Derek's hands. He gasped at the pressure and Derek had to pull away to steady himself for a moment.

 

Stiles looked so damn good, he wasn't quite sure what to do with him.

 

“Can you take me to your bedroom?” Stiles asked. “I think I'd be more comfortable lying down.”

 

“Y-yeah,” Derek said.

 

He helped him to his feet and walked him slowly across the room. Stiles was still blind and was obviously off-balance. They got to the bedroom and Stiles felt around for the bed. He crawled onto it and Derek watched him stretch out.

 

Like that, sprawled on his back on the bed, Derek could really see just how stuffed he was. Stiles' belly was a round dome on top of him, his shirt no longer reaching his jeans.

 

“Are you going to join me?” he asked.

 

Derek got onto the bed, replacing his hands on Stiles' belly and resumed rubbing slowly. He pressed a kiss to Stiles' neck, moving down a little towards his collarbone.

 

“How did I do?” Stiles asked.

 

Derek huffed a laugh against his skin.

  
“Amazingly,” he said. “Like, really amazingly.”

 

“So you liked it?” Stiles asked. “Because it seems like you really liked it.”

 

“Yeah, Stiles, I liked it,” Derek said.

 

“Me too,” Stiles said quietly.

 

Derek smiled down at him and then reached up to take the blindfold off.

 

“As much as I'd really like to make out with you right now,” Stiles said. “Do you think we could just lie here for a bit? I feel like I need a nap.”

 

“Yeah, that's fine,” Derek said.

 

He moved closer to Stiles, snuggling up to him. He really wanted to do more but he didn't want them to move too fast. Even though they'd just done something he'd never thought he'd get to do.

 

“Keep up the belly rubs, though,” Stiles said sleepily.

 

Nothing was going to stop Derek from doing that.

 


End file.
